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Juan in America
Set in the year before the Wall Street crash, this book is a classic evocation of the final mania of prohibition, as seen through equally maverick British eyes. The character Eric Linklater devised to be his unreliable explorer was one capable of absorbing the enormity of the American experience without being overwhelmed by its incongruities.
A blithe, bastard descendent of Byron’s Don Juan, Linklater's Juan is an antihero with a taste for the grotesque and the ridiculous, at once both dirty and deity whose response when faced either with sudden catastrophe or miraculous survival is simply to laugh. A novel in the mode of the picaresque, this is a story of erotic discovery in the sense, as Juan puts it, that “your trousers hide not only your nakedness but your kinship to the clown..
A blithe, bastard descendent of Byron’s Don Juan, Linklater's Juan is an antihero with a taste for the grotesque and the ridiculous, at once both dirty and deity whose response when faced either with sudden catastrophe or miraculous survival is simply to laugh. A novel in the mode of the picaresque, this is a story of erotic discovery in the sense, as Juan puts it, that “your trousers hide not only your nakedness but your kinship to the clown..
- GenresFiction
458 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1931
About the author
Eric Linklater
159 books25 followersEric Robert Russell Linklater was a Welsh-born Scottish writer of novels and short stories, military history, and travel books. For The Wind on the Moon, a children's fantasy novel, he won the 1944 Carnegie Medal from the Library Association for the year's best children's book by a British subject.
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
Did Not Finish
September 14, 2022Unengaging story, wooden protagonist, hackneyed American tropes. Disappointment etched all over mine phiz. Read up to p.142.
December 26, 2012
Eric Linklater is not a name on literary lips these days, but in his prime he was enormously popular and critically highly regarded. His wartime radio plays for the BBC were seen as so important to the war effort that they were discussed in broadsheet editorials. His third novel, "Juan in America", was a bestseller and whilst it may seem entirely fanciful, Linklater's own travels as a young man were even more incredible - India, China, and indeed America. This is a novelist who knows whereof he writes.
I don't know, but I suspect his work and amatory experiences were not quite so varied as Juan's, who goes from college football hero to bum to slinger of hash, bootlegger, ice cream dispenser, upside-down opera singer and movie extra, and whose conquests include an Amazonian acrobat and a gangster's daughter.
Juan is a direct descendant of Byron's Don Juan. He shares the Don's taste for adventure and the ladies without being either predatory or amoral. He is a likeable companion as we follow his picaresque travels. There are occasional affronts to modern taste - Linklater's handling of black people is not what we would wish, though it has to be remembered that he was writing in America in 1931 and in many ways reflects the attitudes of East Coast Ivy Leaguers of that era. Read closely enough and you realise that, whilst he doesn't seem to rate his impoverished black characters as individuals, he does empathise with their historical plight, "the result of forcibly transporting a people from one continent to another, using them in slavery for several generations, and then bestowing on them a nominal freedom and a position beyond the pale of society."
All in all, "Juan in America" is a splendid example of English picaresque from the first half of the 20th century. As such, Linklater's rivals in the field were not Huxley or Forster but Priestley and Mackenzie, neither of them particularly popular these days either. But "Juan in America" has never been out of print in the eighty years since it was written, and that has to be the best kind of recommendation.
I don't know, but I suspect his work and amatory experiences were not quite so varied as Juan's, who goes from college football hero to bum to slinger of hash, bootlegger, ice cream dispenser, upside-down opera singer and movie extra, and whose conquests include an Amazonian acrobat and a gangster's daughter.
Juan is a direct descendant of Byron's Don Juan. He shares the Don's taste for adventure and the ladies without being either predatory or amoral. He is a likeable companion as we follow his picaresque travels. There are occasional affronts to modern taste - Linklater's handling of black people is not what we would wish, though it has to be remembered that he was writing in America in 1931 and in many ways reflects the attitudes of East Coast Ivy Leaguers of that era. Read closely enough and you realise that, whilst he doesn't seem to rate his impoverished black characters as individuals, he does empathise with their historical plight, "the result of forcibly transporting a people from one continent to another, using them in slavery for several generations, and then bestowing on them a nominal freedom and a position beyond the pale of society."
All in all, "Juan in America" is a splendid example of English picaresque from the first half of the 20th century. As such, Linklater's rivals in the field were not Huxley or Forster but Priestley and Mackenzie, neither of them particularly popular these days either. But "Juan in America" has never been out of print in the eighty years since it was written, and that has to be the best kind of recommendation.
Read
September 30, 2008Just sort of lost interest in this one. It was fun at first, but I wasn't motivated to finish.
fic-guided
July 24, 2020Every so often, during a bookshop browse, you come across a title which rings a bell but which for some reason you’ve never got round to reading. You pick it up and give it a go. And find a new delight. Juan in America falls into that category (for me, I hasten to add).
Linklater recorded the key element in the novel (his third) in his later memoir:
I went to the Grammar School of Aberdeen, whose most famous pupil was Lord Byron. Before the school there was a statue of him in robes of flowing bronze: I read Don Juan and The Vision of Judgement, and my affection for romance was cut in two, and the other half of my mind fell far in love with wit. Dirty-fingered, we sat at our desks, – rough with deep-cut initials – and gave glum attention to Samson Agonistes and The Cause of the Present Discontents; but Byron, through the window, undid the schoolroom teaching that literature must be a solemn thing.
His life after school was suitably Byronic. By lying about his age Linklater got himself into uniform, and to the front line. He was a sniper in the Black Watch for years before he could legally vote. Unlike the martyr of Missolonghi the war did not succeed in killing him; he was invalided out with a severe head wound. He went on to university and, after some post-war knocking about the literary world, found himself a novel-writing academic at the University of Aberdeen, with a Commonwealth Fellowship to spend a year in the US. His latent Byronism was unleashed.
Juan in America was hugely successful – in Britain. It is one of the best of a small category of novels which could be called contemptu americani: in the same top bracket as Waugh’s THE LOVED ONE and Huxley’s After Many a Summer – if less bilious than either. Juan Motley is a bar-sinister descendant of the mad, bad, dangerous-to-know lord. He has spent the year or two after university in barren Australia (some bastard offspring of his own seem to be involved in the exile). Of a wandering disposition, he has been invited to an American college founded by one of his distant Motley kinsmen. He departs with zest, casting a coolly appraising look at the herd of passengers embarking with him for their home shore:
Spectacled, fat, benign, alert, young, gay, hard-faced handsome, tidy, slovenly, smart, stalwart, slim – three hundred holiday-makers going home stepping aboard the ship with casual Yankee unconcern as though it were a foot-plank crossing a creek. The heirs of Time and applied Science, they used a forty-thousand-ton liner like a row-boat or a penny ferry. Children of immensity, they were unabashed by immensity.
The snooty tone is sustained throughout. What follows is a ramshackle ingénu progress. In New York it is speakeasies, bodies falling from Wall Street skyscrapers, and Broadway chorus girls. On to Chicago, where he gets involved in a Capone-style shoot-out. The bootleggers like his style and he moves some booze across the border. More bullets fly. Then on to Motley College where, after some lively stuff with ‘co-eds’ (nothing like it at Oxford), he dooms himself by fluffing a match-winning move on the football field. On he travels. He loses his cash in a stick-up, gets by ‘slinging hash’, is almost killed by an African-American (the now unprintable n-word is cheerfully sprayed about) hog-slaughterer. He meets up with the now happily married mother of one of his bastards (slightly sticky) and goes on the road with a vaudeville ‘operacrobat’ who sings Verdi hanging upside down from a trapeze. She’s just as unusual between the sheets. Having arrived on the Atlantic coast, he leaves from the Pacific coast, with a charming Chinese girl, Kuo Kuo, his wanderlust, and every other lust, still running strong. All great fun.
Linklater recorded the key element in the novel (his third) in his later memoir:
I went to the Grammar School of Aberdeen, whose most famous pupil was Lord Byron. Before the school there was a statue of him in robes of flowing bronze: I read Don Juan and The Vision of Judgement, and my affection for romance was cut in two, and the other half of my mind fell far in love with wit. Dirty-fingered, we sat at our desks, – rough with deep-cut initials – and gave glum attention to Samson Agonistes and The Cause of the Present Discontents; but Byron, through the window, undid the schoolroom teaching that literature must be a solemn thing.
His life after school was suitably Byronic. By lying about his age Linklater got himself into uniform, and to the front line. He was a sniper in the Black Watch for years before he could legally vote. Unlike the martyr of Missolonghi the war did not succeed in killing him; he was invalided out with a severe head wound. He went on to university and, after some post-war knocking about the literary world, found himself a novel-writing academic at the University of Aberdeen, with a Commonwealth Fellowship to spend a year in the US. His latent Byronism was unleashed.
Juan in America was hugely successful – in Britain. It is one of the best of a small category of novels which could be called contemptu americani: in the same top bracket as Waugh’s THE LOVED ONE and Huxley’s After Many a Summer – if less bilious than either. Juan Motley is a bar-sinister descendant of the mad, bad, dangerous-to-know lord. He has spent the year or two after university in barren Australia (some bastard offspring of his own seem to be involved in the exile). Of a wandering disposition, he has been invited to an American college founded by one of his distant Motley kinsmen. He departs with zest, casting a coolly appraising look at the herd of passengers embarking with him for their home shore:
Spectacled, fat, benign, alert, young, gay, hard-faced handsome, tidy, slovenly, smart, stalwart, slim – three hundred holiday-makers going home stepping aboard the ship with casual Yankee unconcern as though it were a foot-plank crossing a creek. The heirs of Time and applied Science, they used a forty-thousand-ton liner like a row-boat or a penny ferry. Children of immensity, they were unabashed by immensity.
The snooty tone is sustained throughout. What follows is a ramshackle ingénu progress. In New York it is speakeasies, bodies falling from Wall Street skyscrapers, and Broadway chorus girls. On to Chicago, where he gets involved in a Capone-style shoot-out. The bootleggers like his style and he moves some booze across the border. More bullets fly. Then on to Motley College where, after some lively stuff with ‘co-eds’ (nothing like it at Oxford), he dooms himself by fluffing a match-winning move on the football field. On he travels. He loses his cash in a stick-up, gets by ‘slinging hash’, is almost killed by an African-American (the now unprintable n-word is cheerfully sprayed about) hog-slaughterer. He meets up with the now happily married mother of one of his bastards (slightly sticky) and goes on the road with a vaudeville ‘operacrobat’ who sings Verdi hanging upside down from a trapeze. She’s just as unusual between the sheets. Having arrived on the Atlantic coast, he leaves from the Pacific coast, with a charming Chinese girl, Kuo Kuo, his wanderlust, and every other lust, still running strong. All great fun.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 7, 2018
It must be at least 15yrs ago that I was returning from a hillwalk somewhere up in The Grampians. I was alone in my car driving back down the A9 on a Sunday afternoon listening to Radio Scotland and the presenter was discussing Eric Linklater. She said that in his day he was as popular as Graham Greene and that was good enough for me. I ordered this book on Amazon some time later and have been meaning to read it ever since. The edition itself by Capucin Classics is tremendous with an tasteful cover in a soothing green-blue colour with an ever so stylish black & white pen drawing. The print is pleasingly large and the paper is quality. For years I never got round to it, put off by a fear that it would be too dry and inaccessible. How wrong I was! A couple of months ago I was at the funeral of my wife's aunt and Eric Linklater's elderly son, Magnus, was there with his wife and I determined I should finally read this book. It was excellent.
The story itself is a pleasing romp through a series of adventures by the young hero Juan- a descendant of Byron's hero- in the year before the Great Crash. The prose fizzes and crackles with wit and a fabulous vocabulary- I never knew some of these words even existed!
The story itself is a pleasing romp through a series of adventures by the young hero Juan- a descendant of Byron's hero- in the year before the Great Crash. The prose fizzes and crackles with wit and a fabulous vocabulary- I never knew some of these words even existed!
July 3, 2022
Šīs grāmatas kontekstā, laikam pareizi būtu lietot teicienu "neskaties vīru no cepures", proti, šajā gadījumā, neskaties uz grāmatu pēc tā vāka. Jo, ja skatīsi grāmatu no vāka un sagaidi to, ko tev sola vāks, tad būs vilšanās. Nezinu, bet manā ieskatā minētais darbs nebūtu uzskatāms par klasisku blēžu romānu (nedz klasisku, nedz blēžu romāns, šis darbs manā ieskatā nav uzskatāms). Kā papildus bonuss ir jāmin samērā vājais tulkojums (iespējams, vaina ir tajā, ka grāmata ir izdota deviņdesmito gadu sākumā).
Ja par saturu, tad sanāca vilties (gaidīju tomēr blēžu romānu), bet saņēmu kāda cilvēka piedzīvojumus Amerikā (satura ziņā grāmata ir nedaudz līdzīga darbam "Forests Gamps", kurā tiek apskatīti kāda cilvēka piedzīvojumi), tomēr manā ieskatā šī grāmata ir ļoti vāja (it īpaši, ja salīdzina ar grāmatu "Forests Gamps").
Kopumā - samērā vājš darbs (novērtēju tikai ar divām zvaigznēm), kuru neieteiktu kā obligātu izlasāmu grāmatu.
Ja par saturu, tad sanāca vilties (gaidīju tomēr blēžu romānu), bet saņēmu kāda cilvēka piedzīvojumus Amerikā (satura ziņā grāmata ir nedaudz līdzīga darbam "Forests Gamps", kurā tiek apskatīti kāda cilvēka piedzīvojumi), tomēr manā ieskatā šī grāmata ir ļoti vāja (it īpaši, ja salīdzina ar grāmatu "Forests Gamps").
Kopumā - samērā vājš darbs (novērtēju tikai ar divām zvaigznēm), kuru neieteiktu kā obligātu izlasāmu grāmatu.
May 18, 2021
The story is compelling and was a surprise in the way of classics as I had not heard of Eric Linklater before stumbling across this particular book. I enjoyed the behind the scenes look at life in America during the 1920's and as the Depression approached. I did find the title misleading since the name of the lead character being Juan, who would have guessed he was NOT a Spanish immigrant but a British national.
Read
May 18, 2021A descendant of Byron's Don Juan continues his adventures in the USA. I found this hilarious on the first reading (1999), rather predictable the second time around.
March 7, 2016
What a lad that Juan is! This book is a joyous romp through an earlier age, although youth is youth in whatever age. Cushioned by family wealth, this boy goes with the flow and has some great adventures. Never a dull day in pre-crash, prohibition America. The fact that Juan can brush off the consequences of his behaviour so quickly adds to the fiction, but is a bit annoying. I hope he got his comeuppance after the book finished. Reading the book in the 21st century was challenging in places: the language of the times fits ill with contemporary culture, and the one bit of domestic violence (easily justified by the little sod) jarred. The book is generally very funny with passages of overly descriptive purple prose. Overall, very enjoyable.
March 12, 2017
The worst book I have ever read.
January 2, 2013
Couldn't finish the book, dunno why, but it's unreadable; although I've read almost half of it.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews